


little bit (of love)

by misbehavin



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Bisexual Disaster Sylvia Tilly, Dancing, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23096980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misbehavin/pseuds/misbehavin
Summary: Acknowledging this? Easy. Sylvia Tilly is nothing but a lover of feeling feelings. But doing something about this?Noteasy.
Relationships: Keyla Detmer & Joann Owosekun & Sylvia Tilly, Michael Burnham/Sylvia Tilly, Saru & Sylvia Tilly
Comments: 12
Kudos: 76





	little bit (of love)

**Author's Note:**

> I think this is the first fic I post in 2020, so technically I can say happy new year, right? That makes sense? Anyway, I hope you like it!

"Okay, but consider this," Tilly says, "I'm gonna die alone."

Saru sighs. He puts his hand above hers, and Tilly turns it around and clasps it tight. "Now, why would you think such a thing?"

Tilly sighs. She ran out of her own party— not her birthday party, or any party celebrating her, just a regular, all crew are welcome, party of her own making that is — to find the answer to that question. She hoped Saru would be the one to answer it, not to ask it. Why  _ would _ she think she was going to die alone, as in, never have a significant other to make out and share her troubles with? Her mother did everything to inspire hopelessness in her, sure, but it's not like she fell completely prey to it and fully believed she wasn't worthy of any love and attention. Yet here she is, halfway to being drunk and mourning a life she might not have.

She doesn't think about it often, of course. But it's the weekend and at the party everyone looks beautiful and...  _ connected _ with each other — and that's only half a hyperbole. It's not like there are no single people, but sometimes it feels like Tilly is somehow the only one left. So when she sees other people having the thing that she wants, she can't help but actually, really think about it, at length, for a crazy amount of time, at any given moment of the day. She saw Keyla and Jo holding hands, for instance, and then kept glancing at Michael's fingers, the size of her nails, the smoothness of skin. For someone as loud and transparent as she is, Tilly was doing a fantastic job of being discreet about her affections. 

And that is how she began considering dying alone. 

Sitting with Saru in his quarters and having him glare at her with the kindness and the exasperation that only a friend would, she knows that maybe she's being overly dramatic. But she can't help it.

"I don't know, Saru," she says. "It just seems so easy for other people! I don't get it. You like someone and that someone likes you  _ back _ ? That sounds so cool but also, insane?! Like? How?! Oh my god, can you  _ imagine _ ? Michael liking me back?"

"You must tell her how you feel," advises Saru. "And then you'll know."

"Oh, here's an idea: why don't  _ you _ do it for me?" Tilly suggests, though she knows that's a dead end.

Saru isn't against parties, and he never refuses to join everyone when it is the commemoration of something important, but, suffice to say, it's not his kind of thing. Right now, the party going on is one Tilly organized at the last minute, because it's the weekend and everyone around Discovery can always use some relaxation, whether in the form of alcohol or dancing. Not Saru, however; his favorite type of relaxing is lying diagonally, listening to classical music. Or tending to his plants and flowers. Or eating them.

He blinks at her. 

"I can't just  _ tell _ her!" Tilly exclaims. "I can't just. Come up to Michael and say hey, do you maybe wanna be my gir-girlfriend?" she stutters. "Oh my god I can't even say it, see, this is a terrible idea!"

"Tilly," says Saru, ever so patient. "Are you certain of your feelings for Michael?"

Tilly blinks. Swallows. She's maybe slightly more anxious that she thought and her eyes burn a little. She thinks she might cry. "Yep. Yes."

"Have you considered she might feel the same way about you?"

She snorts. "Maybe. But no. What? No. No way."

"And how would you know, unless you asked her?"

"I can't do that," she shakes her head, "If that was in the realm of possibility, I would know. I would totally know, and for sure."

"She was raised Vulcan," Saru says and damn him and his kind blue eyes. "She's better at hiding her feelings than anyone else on this ship."

Tilly nods. "True," she frowns. "True, true, true."

There's a long pause.

"What exactly is making you hesitate?" he asks. "Especially if there's the smallest chance she reciprocates?"

"Well, for starters, she is my best friend," Tilly begins, as if she's also explaining the reasons to herself too. "She means too much to me. And we have such a good relationship and I don't want to screw that up, you know? So if there's a chance I might lose what we already have… I can't risk it."

Saru tilts his head, touches the tip of his fingers to his forehead.

"Have you considered that perhaps Michael thinks that as well? That what you have is not worth risking?"

Tilly squints. She thought about it, once, but she squashed down the hope for the sake of everything else.

"Tell her how you feel," Saru says, again, with his hand now on her shoulder. "I'm sure you'll feel better for it, no matter the outcome."

Tilly pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear, took a deep breath and stood up. She couldn't keep hiding in Saru's quarters nor could she hope to have him talk to her all night just so she could avoid facing Michael. So she thanked him and walked back to the party, ready to order a few more drinks.

* * *

She isn't one to hesitate so much. In fact, hesitation is rare when it comes to her and when it happens it's a byproduct of some deep, uncontrollable insecurity. It's something she's constantly working on, especially when she confronts the fact that she's been told by a number of people — mentors, coworkers, friends and, of course, her mother — her recklessness and abruptness would eventually cause her problems. And it has. Sure. But at least she learned a bit. She's better at thinking things through now, she thinks. It doesn't mean she is  _ good _ at it but at least she spares every decision a second thought before jumping in head first.

Which is not to say that was the case when falling in love with Michael: she did that quite quickly, without much (or any) questioning. Hence the problem. Acknowledging this? Easy. Sylvia Tilly is nothing but a lover of feeling feelings. She gets a kick out of it, too. Every time Michael smiles at her she feels giddy and amazing and  _ alive _ . And she adores every second of it. But doing something about this? Not easy. Besides her own feelings, she has Michael's to consider, and that's the thing: Michael has a hard time with them. And Tilly couldn't bear the thought of hurting her in any way, whether it was from somehow pushing her into something she wasn't ready for or, worst case scenario, making her uncomfortable by telling her anything and then, as a result, end up ruining their friendship.

"If you say you're going to die alone one more time I'm gonna have to drag you to sickbay," says Keyla. She's wearing a T-shirt that says  _ tell her you love her _ and Tilly knows it's a gift from one of her nieces, the one Jo said was more than thrilled to meet her the last time they went home for some time off. Tilly likes the shirt but she's mad at it for two things: one, it reminds her that she really should say something to Michael, maybe, and two, wearing a T-shirt to a party should be against the rules. Even if it's a really nice T-shirt.

She slumps in her seat. "Well, too bad, because there's a good chance that I  _ am _ gonna die alone but... Why would you drag me to sickbay?" asks Tilly. "I'm not even drunk. Yet."

"To check if there's nothing wrong with your brain," says Keyla.

By her side, Jo snorts. Then, she takes a look at Michael as she's stepping closer. "Just go dance with her and stop moping."

Tilly gets up from her seat, takes a deep breath. Okay. Whatever. "Fine. You know what, I'm gonna do that."

"Hey," greets Michael, when they meet halfway, and looking at her directly after an entire day of stolen glances makes Tilly thinks,  _ nope! Abort mission immediately!  _

"Hi!" she says, quickly acknowledging Michael looks stunning in her dress and then taking a deep, steady breath. 

"I was looking for you."

"Were you now?"

"Yeah," Michael nods. Her expression turns apologetic. "I was thinking of going back to quarters. There's not much to do at parties but dance and, as you know, I don't do much of that. Well, not since… You know." She pauses. Shakes her head. "In any way, I just thought I should let you know. Everything looks beautiful, by the way. You did a great job," She grins, "As usual."

Tilly feels her face get warm. "Thanks. You don't need to go, though. Did you even dance at all?"

Michael brows furrow. "No, but… I'm not exactly good at it. Besides, who would I dance with?"

There's plenty of people who'd like to dance with her, without a shred of doubt. The only plausible explanation why nobody had approached her was probably because they chickened out at the last second. 

"Well," Tilly clears her throat. "There's me."

Michael doesn't mask her initial shock. She recovers quickly, "All right."

They share private smiles as they walk hand in hand to the middle of the room.

An upbeat song is playing and it's ruining Tilly's romantic reverie but she decides to just roll with it: she holds onto Michael's waist as Michael loops her arms on her shoulders and they move to the beat. It's not perfect, but eventually Tilly spins Michael around and Michael does the same with her and laughs, a beautiful sound almost hidden underneath the loud music and too short-lived for Tilly's liking, and it's all good.

After a fair amount of songs, the slow dancing begins. Natural as breathing, they swing gently together, with barely any space between their bodies. At one point, their hips are actually touching. 

Without thinking, Tilly moves her hand from the small of Michael's back upwards and then back down again, fingers tracing the naked skin softly. She has herself to thank for the choice of dress: it was a gift, one of many she grew used to giving to Michael.

"Tilly?" Michael says, pulling back a little to look at her face. 

Tilly puts her hand back on her hips. Refuses to stop dancing altogether although that's the first thing that comes to mind. 

"I have to tell you something," she rushes, doing her best to keep eye-contact. She frowns, "Um, maybe don't hate me after I tell you? That would be cool."

Michael smiles a little, fond, shaking her head. "I could never hate you."

"Right." Tilly thinks her hands are clammy, but she does her best to ignore that. She takes a deep breath before starting to ramble, "Okay, here it goes. I'm kind of— No, I'm very, like— Into you? I mean, I love you and of course you know  _ that _ , I guess, but the thing is, I also kind of think about, ah, kissing you? Like all the time? It's terribly distracting but I thought maybe—"

"Yes."

"—Maybe I should let you know, just in case, and I totally get it if you want to change rooms if I made things weird— Wait, what? What was that?"

"I said yes," Michael says, eyes wide. "Me too."

"Um. You— I don't follow."

"I feel the same way."

Abruptly, the music changes and so does the light patterns.  _ At last _ by Etta James starts, playing at full blast on the speakers, because of course it would. Under the flickering of blue and pink and purple hue, they just stand there, staring at each other. 

"Michael?" 

"I thought I was seeing something that wasn't there," Michael begins explaining. She takes both of Tilly's hands in hers and considering all her usual posture, looks almost frantic. "And I thought about asking for advice, but the person I would ask for guidance in these matters is you, so I was…" she breathes out, "It was hard."

"Oh my god, are you— are you serious?!" Tilly whisper-yells. "We could've been dating all this time?!" At Michael's confused face she starts over, "Sorry, sorry. I mean, I love you. I love you an insane amount. I  _ have _ told you that, right?"

"Yes. Multiple times," affirms Michael. She grins, "And I love you too."

It's all it takes: those words utter back without sounding like an empty echo, that's what compels Tilly to hold her face and press her lips to hers. Michael's mouth is soft, warm. 

Somewhere close someone says,  _ finally _ !, and Tilly pulls back quickly, wants to apologize, because they could've been, should've been, somewhere more private. But Michael doesn't seem upset, although her eyes widen a bit again.

Ignoring Keyla's less than subtle thumbs up and Jo's wink, Tilly drags Michael away from everything: everyone's prying, the noise of the party, their supportive but super lame friends.

Out in the corridor, Michael halts to a stop. "Does everybody know?"

"What do you mean? Yes, everybody knows. It's literally so obvious."

Michael tenses. "I thought I was more careful than that."

"What? No, I mean me," Tilly rushes. "I'm super obvious about my huge crush on you. It's literally what everyone talks about. There were even bets."

"Oh. I don't know what to say to that."

Tilly squeezes her hand. "It's okay. As long as you reciprocate." 

Michael leans in for another kiss, this time deeper, lasting. Tilly holds onto her shoulders, kissing back wholeheartedly, to the point they're panting a little when they break apart. 

She still has her eyes closed when Michael says, quietly, "Of course I do."

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
